Atlantis Found
by eliatropesonmobius
Summary: In the modern world, scientists are discovering new things everyday. But when they discover a sunken island with signs of life and a mysterious amnesiac girl, things get interesting.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: Hetalia doesn't belong to me._

Chapter 1:

In the old days, there were many countries, or empires, that existed and claimed control of vast tracts of the Earth. Some were vast and lasted centuries, like Ancient Greece, Ancient Rome, Germania, and Britannia. But what the people of these vast empires didn't know was that each one was personified into the shape of a human. These could be either male or female and were the stereotype of their country. There are claimed to be many in this day and age, for the personifications still exist as long as they are not forgotten in the minds of mortals. But if you could track one down and speak to them, they'd tell you of an empire that was entirely peaceful, yet was around long before they were. This empire's name was Atlantis and her personification was that of a young adult with long blonde hair and a puffy blue silk dress with no sleeves.

* * *

Present Day:

Rome sighs as he watches his grandson, North Italy, prepare for a World Summit meeting.

"What's on the agenda today, Feli?" He calls his grandson by his human name, an alias in a world still unaware of the personifications.

"Hawaiian Kingdom is coming in." Feliciano Vargas fusses with his tie and sighs. He can never get the stupid thing the exact way he likes it. He supposes he'll convince Germany to do it for him later. "Some of America's escavatori ***** found an underwater island that had some homes. They think it's a lost Hawaiian Island. That's why Hawaiian Kingdom is coming. If anyone can help us identify it, she can!" He grins and kisses his grandfather on the cheek. "But you know what's weird? They found a girl in an old boat floating on the surface above the excavation site. She was in a coma but America said his doctors were expecting her to wake up at anytime."

"Who is she?" Rome asks, lounging with his glass of wine on the couch.

"We don't know. None of the countries say she's their citizen."

"Wait..." A young girl comes to his mind, wearing a smile and toga-like dress. "Do you mind if I tag along to the meeting?"

"Not at all, Grandpa!" Feliciano smiles, pleasantly surprised to see his grandpa willing to do some actual activity.

"Let's go then!"

"We...Still have to wait for Lovino, Grandpa Rome." Feliciano says, thinking of his foul-mouthed brother, South Italy. As much as he loves his brother, the southern portion of Italy tends to enjoy cussing. (Most words which will be excluded from this story.) Speaking of which, the two personifications turn as the other part of Italy descends the stairs of their modest Venetian home, cussing as he also struggles with his tie.

"Are you ready to go, Lovi? Grandpa Rome decided he wanted to come to the meeting too, isn't that exciting? Ve~" Lovino rolls his eyes and walks out to the car.

"Great for him. We going or not?"

"Yes!" Feliciano dashes outside and after everyone piles into the Ferrari decorated with the colors of the Italian flag, they pull into the parking lot of te World Summit building in Washington, DC, and prepare to go inside.

* * *

Meanwhile...

A young woman who appears to be about seventeen awakens in a stiff hospital bed. She tries to take a breath but starts choking on a tube in her throat. She flails and panics until the doctor hears her and comes in before removing it.

"How are you feeling?" He asks the girl, who has successfully sat up and is peering around, looking slightly harried.

"Like I had a tube rammed down my throat." The girl retorts bitterly. "Where am I?"

"MedStar Washington Hospital Center, Washington, DC." He recites the name as if he's spent hours practicing it in front of a mirror. He probably has, considering the fact he's new.

"That doesn't help me at all." The girl deadpans and the doctor's professional facade crumples.

"Oh, um...Okay. Tell me your name."

"Don't know it." She crosses her arms.

"Current date?" This doctor isn't trained to deal with amnesia patients and so is spouting random questions off the top of his head.

"You think I'll know the date but not my own name?" The girl looks genuinely confused at this. She isn't trying to be harsh, but she's scared because she doesn't know who she is.

"Well, we have your file here." The young doctor ,embarrassed, flips through papers on his clipboard. "Apparently your name is Lyra Daniels and you're a student at Kokutalia, a high school with students from every nation on the planet. Tomorrow is the first day and since you appear to be in good health, we're willing to release you to a foster family. They'll be here to pick you up around noon." He leaves and Lyra falls back onto her bed. Sh wonders if Lyra is even her real name. The oly thing she can remember is a loud boom and the feeling of water in her lungs. She wonders if that's how she ended up on a boat. But mostly she wonders what will happen to her next.

* * *

"Obviously one of us has to take her in." The British Empire, AKA England, sits in one of the chairs in the world conference hall. "The only question now is deciding who."

"Well, which of us has the most experience with children?" Germany asks from his place at the podium in the front of the room.

"Austria! He took care of HRE and I for a long time!" Italy pipes up. The musical nation scoffs as others turn to look at him.

"Just because I did it once upon a time does not mean I will do it again. If she is an empire, like you claim, then surely she can take care of herself."

"I'm too busy to take her in..." England sighs. "Same for France. Who does that leave?" The group murmurs among itself until one very...Heroic voice pipes up.

"Dude, I could always take her in!" America looks incredibly proud and excited, so...Nothing's changed. "I already have a bunch so I don't really see the problem with adding one more!"

"Since when do you have kids?!" Everyone seems shocked at this revelation and America just shrugs with a grin.

"I've got fifty, so one more definitely won't hurt. I can call Delaware and Pennsylvania so they can pick her up and take her to the house There! Problem solved!" He pulls out his phone and starts texting someone as the other countries sit around the room in various states of shock.

* * *

The hospital provided the girl with some clean clothes from their lost- and-found and she is now waiting outside for the two people supposed to be coming to pick her up. A blue car pulls up to the sidewalk next to her suddenly and Lyra takes a nervous step back. A Caucasian woman with frizzy black hair is at the steering wheel while an African-American man sat in shotgun, looking vaguely nauseous. The woman parks the car and the man quickly clambers out.

"Your driving is still awful." He snarks as the woman climbs out as well.

"Screw you! On a scale of best drivers to worst, I'm number nine! And that's out of fifty, so I'd say that's pretty darn awesome! And I don't know why you're complaining, seeing as you're number sixteen."

"We'll discuss this another time. Where's Lyra?" Lyra herself steps up and taps him on the shoulder.

"Um, that'd be me." she says nervously and the man turns to her with an almost-blinding grin.

"Wonderful to meet you, Lyra! My name's Michael Jones and this is Madison. We're siblings so she has the same last name."

"Well, I should hope so." Madison grins and places a hand on Lyra's shoulder. "You ready to go, Lyra?" She nods nervously and all three pile into the car.

* * *

 **Madison = Delaware**

 **Michael = Pennsylvania**

 **I won't be introducing many states, seeing as I'm not very good at writing multiple personalities. Maximum I'll probably do is ten, just some of the ones I like best that Lyra will meet at America's house.**

 **As for the high school thing, the nations want to collaborate and share whatever knowledge they're okay with sharing. Personally, I believe they're able to modify their age, so they will be high school age, don't worry.**

 **If you have any other questions, please don't hesitate to ask in the reviews.**

 ***Escavatori means excavators in Italian.**

 **Please do the three R's: Read, Review, Repeat.**

 **Thanks!**

 **-EOM**


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: Hetalia belongs to Himaruya._

Chapter 2:

In Lyra's opinion, Madison's driving wasn't terrible. She managed to get them to the place she and Michael call home alive. Other than that, it could use a bit of work.

Madison pulls the car up to park it in front of a stately house with a large yard.

"Finally." Michael stumbles out of the car dramatically before coming over to Lyra's side and opening the door for her. "Quick, let's get you out of this devil machine."

"Dude." Madison just sighs and shakes her head. "Pops isn't going to be pleased you called one of his cars a devil machine."

"He does say we're entitled to our opinions." Michael just shrugs before leading the way inside, Lyra and Madison following close behind. They enter a foyer that has a polished marble floor and a staircase leading up three stories.

"This is amazing..." Lyra whispers, glancing around everywhere and thinking she isn't dressed up nearly enough.

"That's usually the reaction we get from visitors." Madison grins and slings an arm over Lyra's shoulders. "Now, c'mon. I'm supposed to show you to your room before helping you pack your stuff for the international high school, you lucky dog."

"You don't get to go?"

"Nah, not important enough."

"Going by this house, I would've thought your family was pretty important." Madison and Michael glance at each other before bursting into laughter. Lyra frowns, unsure of what she said that was so humorous.

"Oh, if our entire family could go, they would." Madison assures Lyra, toking note of the girl's confused expression. "Unfortunately, the roster is made ahead of time, using a special list of pre-approved candidates."

"Then...How did I get on the list, if I was only fished out of the water a week ago?"

"Someone vouched for you." Madison and Lyra wave at Michael as he heads down a hallway before the two girls pick up Lyra's luggage, bought earlier by a personal shopper, and troop up the stairs. "Don't worry about it. I'm as confused about it as you are."

"So, when do I leave?"

"Tomorrow morning. As much as my sibs and I would love for you to stay longer, the school isn't willing to make any exceptions. Hopefully they're not too tough on you, mermaid."

"Why'd you call me that?" The two girls have climbed to the top of the staircase and are now walking down a long hallway of what appear to be more bedrooms.

"They fished you out of the water, and you've come to live on land. Half land, half sea. Mermaid! Sorry, I've got an...Interesting thought process."

"No, no, no, I like it!" Lyra reassures Madison rapidly and Madison grins before they stop at a door at the end of the hall. While the other doors along the hall are decorated with different colors or signs, the door for this room is a blank white. Madison nods at Lyra encouragingly as the younger girl places a hand on the door and opens it. The inside of the room is sparsely furnished, with a bed covered in white sheets and a brown desk.

"My pop figured since you wouldn't really be living here until summer, we only needed to decorate it for one night."

"Thank you." Lyra grins and helps Madison put the baggage away. "By the way, do you have a music room?"

"Yep! You're one of those musical types, huh? I can tell, you know. But it's about two doors down the hall. I can show you the way, if you want."

"Thanks, but I'm good. I have to get my stuff ready for tomorrow morning, anyway." Madison nods and dashes out of the room, inadvertently slamming the door behind her. Lyra giggles before putting a suitcase on her bed and preparing her outfit for the first day of school tomorrow.

* * *

After she finishes preparing for the next day, Lyra heads to the room Madison mentioned earlier and opens the door. She gasps as she encounters a large room segmented with folding bamboo screens and instruments every way she looks. She browses the instruments before deciding on a lute made of dark wood and sits in an empty corner, her fingers tuning the lute of their own accord. She does an experimental strum before she vocalizes to the tune and sings a song.

" _Through the misty mountains cold,_

 _In my fingers, fine as gold,_

 _Sat my love for you, my darling._

 _Made me fly like a starling._

 _But when cold winds blew,_

 _Echoed around me and you,_

 _I knew I had to leave then,_

 _Though I'd never see you again._

 _And now my heart has gone and grown cold,_

 _For I heard you'd gone and grown old._

 _And I've laid you to rest,_

 _Placed your hand upon your chest._

 _And the gold has gone and faded,_

 _When once it made me feel elated,_

 _And my heart with you has died,_

 _Little light of my life."_

Lyra finishes the song and clears her throat before she notices the silence that replaced background noise from earlier. She looks up to see several people, including Michael staring at her. When they see she's noticed them, they snap out of their trance and quickly retreat. Everyone except for Michael, who comes closer.

"I didn't know you could play the lute." He whispers, sounding the slightest bit awestruck. Lyra glances at the instrument in her hands then back up to him.

"Neither did I. Can we eat yet?"

* * *

Dinner is mostly burgers, though a couple of the other people living in the house insist on salad to make the meal somewhat healthy. Lyra doesn't have time to meet them all, and she isn't sure she could remember all their names if she did have time. Instead, they come and go, grazing like cattle, some tuning instruments they brought down from the music room and others chat animatedly with each other. Lyra sits between Michael and Madison, not attempting to join the conversations and just content with observing.

"Well!" Madison claps her hands suddenly, making Lyra and Michael jolt. "I do believe it's bedtime for Little Miss Mermaid."

"Okay." Lyra stands and is about to leave when Michael stops her by tugging on her sleeve.

"Before you go, Madison and I wanted to give you a present to remember us by during the school year, so..." He holds up a lengthy package and gingerly hands it to Lyra, who hesitates before gently unwrapping it. It's a beautiful acoustic guitar, made out of a wood so lightly colored it almost looks white. A black strap is attached to the back of the guitar and Lyra slings the guitar on so it rests against her front. Michael and Madison look extraordinarily pleased as the people still in the room that haven't finished their dinner applaud politely. "Now it's bedtime." Michael shoos Lyra up the stairs, but not before she gives both her new family members a grateful hug around the middle.

"What do you think?" Michael whispers to Madison as the pair turn away from the staircase.

"I think now we know why her empire was famous for being peaceful." Madison whispers before yawning and heading off towards her own warm bed.

* * *

"How do I get to school if it's in the middle of the ocean?" Lyra and Madison stand outside the house that morning at 7 am. Madison has something tight in her hand and is scanning the skies.

"They'll fly you in a helicopter. I have one more gift for you. This," She holds up a metallic rectangle, "Is a smartphone. Do you know how to operate it?"

"Yes, I was experimenting with Michael's when I couldn't sleep."

"Okay...Anyway, I've taken the liberty of inserting mine and Michael's cell numbers. If you ever get homesick, don't hesitate to call." Lyra nods and Madison gives the device to her. "I also downloaded some music I hope you like. It's a little bit of everything, but I'll put some money in your Apple account so you can buy a song you hear and like." If Madison proceeds to say anything after that, it's cut off by the loud thrashing of a helicopter's blades against the sky when it lands in the yard. Madison pulls Lyra into a tight hug and whispers in her ear. "Don't worry. We'll be right here, waiting." She pulls away gently and helps the helicopter pilot load Lyra's bag and guitar case before helping Lyra herself. Lyra waves through the window until she can't see Madison anymore before slumping against the seat in an effort to be comfortable.

"Are you ready for your first day of school?" The pilot, a perky male who can't be older than thirty, asks through the helmet speaker.

"I will be If not now, then soon." She clenches a fist in determination. "I've got family counting on it."

* * *

 **Excellent! Two chapters down and already this thing is my best work yet! (In my opinion.) Next chapter we finally meet some canonical characters, which I am majorly excited for. If you've checked out my account, you know I have several ongoing stories. When I get stuck on one, I rotate through the others. It also doesn't help my updating that I've decided to write a legit book. (Updates on that to come.) But please, read, review, repeat!**

 **As always,**

 **EOM~**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, seeing as it belongs to Himaruya.**

Chapter 3:

The helicopter speeds across the ocean, reflection rippling over the aquamarine waters. Inside the vessel, a girl by the name of Lyra is anxiously scanning the horizon, hoping to get a glimpse of her home for the school year.

"There it is." The pilot announces suddenly, startling Lyra. "There, on the horizon." After calming her racing heart, Lyra once again presses her nose to the glass. In the distance, she sees a grand building emerge suddenly, as if the waves simply spat it out. As the building edges closer and closer, her nervousness grows until she gets it back under control just as the helicopter lands. The pilot helps her out before also taking her and her luggage over to registration, where a tall man with curly brown hair is talking to a woman with short, curly blonde hair. Both are dressed in suits, though the woman wears a skirt where the man wears slacks and the man is missing his tie.

"Lyra Daniels here for registration." The pilot says, not noticing Lyra's glare. The male teacher flips through some papers on his clipboard before finding and tapping her name with one finger.

"Ladies' dorm, fourth floor, room 432. You'll be rooming with a Miss Elizabeta Hedervary. Personal note," he adds as he lowers his clipboard, "That frying pan of hers is deadly. Also, she's from Hungary, so have fun!" He smiles and Lyra swears there are sparkles in the air around him. She just sighs and receives a map from the female teacher, who is distracted between giving Lyra said map and telling the male teacher off for turning students against each other.

"Have fun." The pilot says and loads her bags onto a trolley for her.

"Thanks...I never learned your name."

"Pietro. Good luck, too." He heads back to the helicopter and she nods at his back before turning and pushing her trolley to the women's dorm.

* * *

Lyra creaks the door open slowly, wondering if her roommate is here yet. That question is answered for her when someone grabs the door from the other side and flings it open dramatically.

"Hello kedves*! I suppose you are my room mate for this year?" Lyra nods weakly, put off by the girl's overwhelming personality. "Great! I am Elizabeta. Shall I help you unpack?" Lyra merely nods again and the girl pulls the trolley into their room. Lyra follows and glances around. The dorm is separated into four areas: Two bedrooms a shared bathroom, and a kitchenette where something is cooking in a portable oven. "Ah, I am preparing some strudel. Would you like some?" Another nod. "Fantastic! It's cheese strudel, you know, a dish from my homeland of Hungary, and-" Elizabeta chatters on but Lyra is concentrating on carefully setting her guitar case in the bedroom Elizabeta is putting her stuff in.

"How...How long have you been attending this school?" Elizabeta pauses before giggling.

"Well, you see, that's a funny question. When you get chosen to go here, you may attend as long as you wish. I've been going here since I was a few years younger than you! Personally, I think you will enjoy it here. The classes are awfully fun and so are the people. Also, there are many cute couples that require my help to make them realize their love for each other."

"That's nice. Is there a music room here?" Lyra motions to her guitar case and Elizabeta grins again.

"Of course! But we are also allowed to play music in our rooms as long as nobody is disturbed by it. I personally love to play the cimbalom, though I store it in the music room due to its' size." The oven dings just as the two girls put away the last of Lyra's laundry and Elizabeta dashes to the oven, apron and potholder appearing out of nowhere. Elizabeta pulls the lid open and produces a tray of pastries, cheese oozing out and steam drifting into the air. Lyra can practically feel herself drooling, though she manages to restrain herself until Elizabeta pulls out a couple glasses of milk and paper plates for the strudel. Then they both dig in, chatting the whole time about what classes they will or won't enjoy.

"I'm looking forward to science." Lyra says, downing her third strudel and feeling more open.

"I'm looking forward to matchmaking."

"I'd established that. Are there more boys here than girls?"

"Yeah...We're a rare breed here, but well appreciated. I ensure that."

"For which I am thankful." Lyra and Elizabeta giggle together before Lyra happens to glance over at the clock. "Geez, it's late! I'd better hit the hay. Thanks for the strudels."

"Anytime." Elizabeta grins and waves as Lyra heads off to bed, yawning.

* * *

'I go to bed early and still I run late the next morning.' Lyra curses inwardly as she dashes across the main courtyard to the school building. She's too busy double-checking her bag to notice she runs into someone until they're both on the ground.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry!" She apologizes rapidly, getting to her feet and reaching a hand out to her unknowing victim. He's a boy, with blue eyes, blond hair and a single curl dangling from the center of his hair. He adjusts his glasses and blinks up at her. He seems to freeze and she frowns before taking his hand and gently pulling him to his feet. "I'm not going to bite, you know."

"S-sorry. I'm used to people treating me like I'm invisible." He stammers, as a small polar bear cub mewls by his feet.

"That's a little rude, being treated like that. Nice bear, by the way. I'm Lyra Daniels. Who are you?"

"M-Matthew Williams."

"Nice to meet you, Matthew! What class do you have next?"

"Science."

"Excellent, so do I! Maybe afterwards you could show me around? It is my first year." He nods meekly and they head off to science class together, Lyra chatting and Matthew nodding along while making some comments here and there.

* * *

"...And that is why I believe I'm smarter than our science teacher."

"I can't really disagree. He seemed to think the Earth revolved around the sun."

"Exactly! Anyway, your accent reminds me of the ones my family has. Where are you from?"

"Ah! I'm from Canada."

"Is it nice?" Lyra sips her milk and plucks a guitar string as she and Matthew eat their lunch outside.

"Mm-hmm!" Matthew nods, seeming more energetic when he's talking about something he enjoys. "Our national animal is the beaver and we really like hockey!"

"I watched a Canadian hockey game with my big brother the first night I got home. It seemed rather brutal." Lyra winces as she recalls one of the poor players getting slammed into the edge of the rink.

"Some Canadians like their hockey a little too much." This causes both Lyra and Matthew to laugh.

"Yo, Mattie!" Someone suddenly walks up to the two friends and Lyra glances up to see a boy remarkably similar to Matthew munching on a cheeseburger and wearing a bomber jacket over an American WW2 uniform redesigned into everyday clothes. "Who's your friend?"

"My name is Lyra and I can speak for myself. It's rude to question people with your mouth full." Matthew looks shocked as Lyra's personality seems to change from a cheerful one to something stern and almost adult.

"Sorry, Lila. I just really like burgers. My name's Alfred and I'm the hero!"

"Of what?"

"This school!"

"Oh? And who is the villain?"

"Ivan Braginski, the commie jerk, of course!"

"That's nice. Matthew, how do you know...What's his name?"

"...Alfred. He's my brother..."

"Very well." Lyra stands and turns to Alfred. "First thing: My name is Ly-RA. Second: Learn some manners. Matthew, I'm afraid I have to go. See you in class tomorrow, yeah?" She slings her guitar onto her back and sighs at Alfred before walking away.

* * *

Matthew POV

"Bro, she just totally kicked my butt." Alfred looks a little stunned, though he continues munching on his burger.

"Mm-hmm." Matthew nods and Alfred doesn't see the little smile Matthew gives. "I guess her attitude is one of the reasons her empire lasted so long. She probably scared her boss into being peaceful."

"I wouldn't be surprised." Alfred turns and runs off, still chewing on that dang burger. Matthew just sighs and sits back down to peacefully finish his own meal.

* * *

 **Alright, another chapter done! Now, don't think Lyra hates Alfred or anything like that. She just expects people to have manners after she's met Mattie. I guess she'll be in for a shock when she meets some of the others. I really did try on the brothers' personalities, though I think I came closer to Canada then America. Which is ironic because I live in America and that makes me feel a tiny connection to that burger-obsessed hero.**

 **Anyways, please read, review, repeat!**

 **As Always,**

 **EOM~**


	4. Chapter 4

**So I was posting chapter 3 when I noticed I'd gained some followers and favorites! That makes me very happy! Thank you!**

 **Disclaimer: As always, Hetalia doesn't belong to me.**

Chapter 4:

"I suppose Alfred isn't so bad..." Lyra muses that night as she watches Elizabeta make dinner. "He just needs to learn some manners." Elizabeta sighs, totally feeling Lyra's pain.

"I do try to teach the boys here manners, but they always claim they do it because they are scared of me. Or my frying pan. Honestly, they use the two interchangeably." She adds some spices to the pot of whatever she's cooking and it steams.

"I've never seen your frying pan in action..." Lyra muses, and Elizabeta grins, pulling one out of nowhere.

"That is easily resolved! After dinner, we shall go to the school clubhouse, yes?"

"What does the school clubhouse have to do with you attacking people with a cast-iron frying pan?" The mere thought makes Lyra want to giggle, and since there is nothing stopping her, she does. Elizabeta just smiles.

"Oh, the boys, at least a couple of them, are annoying. I use my frying pan on annoying people. It...Makes me feel better."

"I understand. In my own way, I think my words are my frying pan."

"Yes. Everyone has their own weapon. You just...Don't use yours often."

"I try not to." Lyra shrugs nonchalantly. Something in the microwave beeps and Elizabeta turns to it with a whirl of her apron.

"Dinner is served."

* * *

The music pumping through a section of the clubhouse, specifically the dance floor near the entrance, is rattling through Lyra's chest. She wonders, if she could feel her own heartbeat, if it would be pulsing in time to the music. Elizabeta insists on them dressing up, just ever so slightly, for the clubhouse. More like a regular club, in Lyra's opinion. She draws the line at wearing makeup, so Elizabeta instead forced her to wear her hair, normally pulled into a high frizzy ponytail, hanging low and naturally curly.

"I want to get a coke!" Lyra shouts to Elizabeta over the music and Elizabeta just nods, waving the other girl away as she descends into the crowd like a stylish bird of prey. Lyra just sighs and heads to the bar. They don't serve alcohol, of course, but she's petty sure she sees someone drinking from a vodka bottle. She orders a coke from the sleepy-looking fellow behind the counter and sips it quietly.

"Yo!" She jolts, nearly spilling her carbonated beverage and whirls to see Alfred sitting next to her with one of his signature grins, according to Matthew. "Can I talk to you?"

"About what?" Lyra takes a sip of her drink, determined to give Alfred a second chance so as not to be rude.

"The whole 'manners' thing. I understand that I come across as...What's the word I'm looking for? Rash! I can be rash, believe me, I've been told that many, many times. But I do try to be polite so this is me making an apology."

"You're forgiven."

"And I will do any-...Wait, you forgive me?" Lyra can't understand why Alfred seems so shocked so she just smiles.

"How about as a compromise, I buy you a coke?"

"Thanks! Jamming out to music always makes me thirsty! Of course, when I tell Iggy that, he just calls me a bloody idiot for not bringing water or a different drink ahead of time." As Lyra orders Alfred's coke, she glances back at him confusedly.

"Okay, I'm still new here. Iggy is...?"

"The British rep. I completely blanked on the fact you were new. Sorry about that." He chuckles sheepishly and takes an awkward sip of his coke.

"Nah, it's fine. I think I've forgotten I'm new a couple of times. Hopefully once I meet some more people, that'll happen more and more frequently."

"I can help with that. Yo, Iggy! Bring the frog and come meet Atlantis!" As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he snaps it shut and pales several shades, glancing at Lyra.

"...That's an interesting nickname."

"Y-yeah. Everyone here is nicknamed after their country of origin. For example, I'm America, Iggy's England, and since we don't know where you're from, cause of the whole amnesia thing, don't worry, Mattie told me, you can be Atlantis!" Lyra nods along.

"So...I just call you America?"

"Yep! Saves everybody time!" **(A/N: And I can introduce those pesky countries with no canon name.)** America sighs, like he just went through an amazing ordeal. A boy with sandy blond hair, bushy eyebrows and a scowl, walks over, followed by another man, who also has blond hair, but his is shoulder length, paired with blue eyes and a flirty smile. Which he immediately directs at Lyra, who smiles and sips her coke again, being the poor, oblivious, secret little empire she is.

"What do you want, Alfred?"

"I wanted to introduce you and Atlantis." England snaps his eyes to Alfred's, who discreetly nods to a corner of the clubhouse before turning to Lyra. "Lyra, I have to talk with Iggy about something so you can meet France while we talk." The boy with the longer hair sits in America's vacant seat after he and England leave.

"Bonjour jolie demoiselle*. My name is Francis. And you are Lyra, non?"

"Yes, but Alfred told me it's a tradition here to call everybody by their country of origin. And since no one knows where I'm from due to my amnesia, he dubbed me as the lost empire of Atlantis." Francis nods as if that makes all the sense in the world.

"Well then, I shall refer to you as demoiselle** Atlantis. Fitting for a lady with all the beauty of the serene ocean."

"If you're flirting with me, I recommend you stop. I'm not really interested and you continuing to do so would just make this awkward for everyone involved." She downs her coke and orders another, while France seems a little shocked. "I'm not completely oblivious, you know. I did understand what you said when you first walked over with England. And while I appreciate the compliment, it's really not going to get you anywhere. But I am willing to be your friend. Nothing more, nothing less. Do we have a deal?" Francis seems to think about it for a second before nodding and ordering a sprite.

"You could be a businesswoman if you wanted, Atlantis." He tells her and she grins, serious manner forgotten in favor of her new friend.

"Maybe I was, in another life."

* * *

 **I feel so proud of my little empire, being oblivious one second, and totally kicking butt the next! *Sigh* She's everything I aspire to be, other than the obliviousness.**

 **Anyway, note time! I'm really working hard on this story, and if you guys like it, please check out my bio and other stories! Also, we must never forget the three R's: Read, review, repeat!**

 ***= Hello, pretty lady.**

 ****= Lady**

 **I got my foreign language off Google translate, so if there are any French speakers out there, kindly help me out and let me know if it's horrendously wrong!**

 **Signing off, as always,**

 **EOM**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

Chapter 1:

"I think they spiked the coke." Lyra shouts out of the bathroom to Elizabeta, who is currently making greasy fries to settle Lyra's now empty stomach.

"I wouldn't be surprised." Hungary responds, handing a glass to Lyra, coming out of the bathroom pale and trembling. "People can be rude like that."

"That doesn't make sense. Who could even spike coke then reseal it in the can?"

"They serve it to you from a two-liter bottle. Anyone could easily spike it."

"I hate people." Lyra decides, sipping the glass of water and nibbling on a fry.

"That is usually the common consensus when you have a hangover." Hungary giggles, packing her backpack for her morning classes while Lyra has a free period. "Hopefully I am not included in your rather large range of general hate?"

"I haven't decided yet. Don't do anything to earn it and everything will be fine. Now get to your class." She waves a hand dismissively at Hungary, who just giggles again and ducks out the door, slinging her backpack over her shoulder.

Lyra manages to laze about the dorm for a few precious hours before she resigns herself to the fact she's too much of a goody-two-shoes to skip class and hauls herself to her feet and in the general direction of her backpack. She also had a strong suspicion she needs glasses.

* * *

"What makes you think you need glasses?" Canada asks Lyra as they again sit in the grass at lunch, this time joined by America and England. England relayed the message that France would've gladly joined, but "had things to do and romance to hunt down."

"Intuition." She replies sarcastically to her friend, popping some Advil in her mouth and downing half a bottle of water. "Plus the fact I seem to have developed trouble reading the board in Ancient Rome's history class." Her friends had previously assured her that the brunet man did not, in fact, hail from Ancient Rome, but was the Italies' grandfather and so received the ironic nickname.

"Well, that is easily remedied with a visit to the school optometrist." England interjects, taking a sip of his tea from a plastic tea cup that Lyra has to forcibly restrain herself from heckling him about.

"Which just means I'll have to get glasses and if you haven't noticed, I'm a little low on funds right now."

"Your home country pays for it. Your wallet remains safe from any perilous blows."

"Oh!" Lyra lies back on the grass and stares up at the sky. "Cool...I'll do it later."

"Yeah, 'cause you're lazy!" America laughs and Lyra sits up to swat at him with her hand.

"Oh, yeah? Who's the one who didn't do their math homework and had to buy that creepy Russian kid illegal vodka in exchange for him saving your butt?" America just pouts as Canada giggles and England smirks.

"At least it wasn't as much as the first time..."

"You mean to tell me there's been more than one occurrence? And you call me lazy?" Lyra scoffs at America and reluctantly pushes herself to her feet. "But if it bugs you so much, I'll do it. And you'll bring your homework to me instead of the Russian. I'm a little scared he'll crush you like a bug if you don't give him enough vodka and you're actually pretty okay, so I'd prefer it if that didn't happen."

"Get going and quit stalling." America waves her off and Lyra takes the opportunity to smack him upside the head one more time before darting towards the infirmary with a chuckle.

* * *

 **Another chapter done! I got a review, so I'm answering the question it poses here, since I do not use the private messaging.**

 **To Guest Who I Hereby Dub Awesome: Atlantis was an extremely powerful country, operating on the hypothesis it actually existed. Do you honestly think any of the other empires wanted to fight? It wasn't a matter of her choosing to be peaceful, it was a matter of everybody else not being dumb enough to challenge her. Plus, Atlantis' science was advanced by leaps and bounds so her ruler was more likely using science to invent weapons that ensured no one would be able to attack them, so as to ensure peace. It's sort of a "Our big guns means everybody has to play nice if you ever want to see the light of day again" situation. But Atlantis, the personification? I personally maintain the belief that, unless provoked, Atlantis was the nicest empire you were likely to meet. Provoking her just gave everybody nightmares.**

 **I hope I explained this well, Awesome! If you have any more questions, please review! I love hearing from you guys. Also it makes it easier for me if I just use the country names now, so you'll notice that's happening in the chapter above.**

 **One more thing and I swear I'm gone: Atlantis does need glasses, but only when recovering from hangovers. It's a headcanon of mine that Atlantis' leader banned alcohol, not only to further the advance of a perfect mind, but also because it was beginning to have an adverse affect on poor Atlantis herself. So her glasses will only make brief appearances whenever I write any scenes that involve her drinking, which, I assure you, will be rare. I have already made an oath with myself to stay away from the bottle for as long as I possibly can, and I don't want to either promote or dissuade the use of alcohol as a drink. I am completely neutral about it when it is used in moderation, but do not tolerate it in excess.**

 **Signing off as always, (And forgive my little rant)**

 **EOM**


	6. Chapter 6

**Yo! So since I did say on my profile that once I got to five chapters on my stories that are WIPs, I'd be posting a new one, and since I actually reached that goal without succumbing to my desires, I'm pleased to announce that I have several stories in the making! I'll be setting up a poll with which one I should do next so please head over to my profile and keep an eye out for that!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

Chapter 1:

After the whole glasses fiasco, Lyra realizes she doesn't really know a whole lot about herself. Which just ends up sucking her into a big void of "Who am I?" Canada, reliable friend he is, suggests heading to the park for a chance to clear her head and actually get rid of that creepy vampire skin tone she's got going on. She takes the first suggestion to heart and smacks him over the head with a book for the second. Then she heads off to the park, leaving an unconscious Canada on the ground, (He's fine, she already checked.) and a nervous America comparing Lyra's books to Hungary's frying pan with England and France nodding sagely in agreement.

* * *

The park is serene, Lyra notes quietly, fog leaving her mind already. (Or perhaps it was just a pesky group of Nargles.) With wooden benches scattered around a walking path which in turn surrounds a lake that is home to two flocks of Canadian geese, which Lyra has a hard time linking to the Canada she knows, seeing as they're demon birds.

She sets out onto the path, walking for awhile before pausing and having to do a double-take. A boy her own age sits among a flock, and he appears to be...Naming the birds. Another boy, this one taller and with a stoic expression behind his glasses, leans against a tree and bears witness to the odd naming ritual. Lyra already knows she's going to have another headache by the end of today but reluctantly heads towards the...Interesting pair anyway.

"Hello." She greets the taller boy, standing next to him and shooting a quick smile his way. "What is your friend doing?"

"Naming the birds."

"You're a man of few words, aren't you? I'd figured that out by myself, funnily enough. But why is he naming the birds?"

"Ask him yerself."

"Okay, I will." Lyra cautiously wades through the sea of devil birds and plops onto the grass next to the other boy. "Your friend doesn't say much."

"Ah!" The boy jolts back, startled by her sudden appearance. He calms down quickly enough and smiles at her, which she returns. "Yes, Mr. Sweden is like that. It's nice to meet you, Miss...?"

"Atlantis, though I suppose my real name is Lyra. America told me about the whole 'calling yourself the name of your country of origin' and all that, so may I ask who you are?"

"I'm Finland, though you can call me Fin."

"Alright, Fin, why are you naming demon birds?" He blinks at a goose sitting placidly near his criss-crossed foot before turning his eyes back to Lyra.

"They're not demon birds. They're calm enough if you're gentle. And I'm naming them because they just seem blank. Like this one, for instance." He picks the goose up and cuddles it to his chest. "I named him Lollipop Rainbow Explosion."

"Really? He looks more like a Robert to me." Fin's eyes light up like the greatest idea in the world just smacked him over the head with a pillow and then dropped a bag of cash in his lap.

"Maybe you wouldn't mind helping me... Name some of the geese?"

"Not at all, my friend. Not at all."

Lyra and Fin are able to pass half an hour naming geese before placing them gently in the lake and watching them float away before Fin seems to remember his friend is still leaning silently on the tree. Fin turns to Sweden.

"Mr. Sweden! Come say hi to Atlantis and help us name geese!" Lyra watches amusedly as Sweden imperceptibly rolls his eyes before coming over to plunk himself down and startle a few unnamed geese into the water.

"Hello." Lyra smiles at the boy again and a silent agreement that their Finnish friend is amusing passes between the two before Sweden relaxes.

"Hello. I'm Sweden."

"And I'm Atlantis. Now, what do you think about the name Marcello?"

* * *

"How was the park?" Hungary asks at the same time Lyra opens the door to their dorm. Lyra glances up quickly, still not used to Hungary's supernatural sense of when Lyra is about to walk into any given room also currently occupied by Hungary herself.

"...Good. I met Finland and Sweden."

"And what did you think?"

"Sweden reminded me of a scarecrow. Silent, and his hair was straw-like. Finland is just a precious cinnamon roll who must be protected, the job of which I think was given to Sweden. Now can we eat? All this psychological crud is working up an appetite for me." Hungary rolls her eyes before setting a bowl of clam chowder in Lyra's place.

"Surprisingly apt description. And yes. We can eat."

* * *

 **Now I've gone and made myself want clam chowder...**

 **A couple of announcements to make! Starting next chapter, I will stop referring to Lyra as...Well, Lyra and switch over to her nickname/real name of Atlantis since I'm already referring to the other countries by their country names as well.**

 **Keep an eye out for the poll I mentioned earlier. It'll only be up two weeks at the most and I don't want any of my lovely readers to miss out.**

 **To lulupyne: Thank you! Your kind words managed to help me pump this thing out in one day, even if an error with the Wi-Fi erased roughly 200 words... Just thanks, in general and please review again so I can say hi!**

 **Signing off, as always,**

 **EOM**


	7. Chapter 7

**Yo! EOM here with my opening author note. I haven't gotten any votes on my poll yet, so I want you guys to know that if I don't get any votes, I will be publishing my Black Butler story. Just FYI.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

Chapter 7:

"Wake up!" Atlantis opens her eyes to darkness and the form of Hungary shaking her. "For the love of all that is holy, wake up!"

"What's going on?" Atlantis sits up and throws the sheets aside, sliding out of bed and onto her feet.

"There are people outside, people who aren't supposed to be here. They have guns and they want the entire student body outside immediately and-" Atlantis catches one of Hungary's flailing hands just as it is about to smack her in the face.

"Calm down. Do you know why they want to see the students?" Hungary shakes her head and Atlantis sighs. "Well then, I suppose we have no choice but to go out there. Stay behind me and do not provoke them in any way." Hungary nods again and they both head outside.

* * *

"Is this everybody?" A masked man stands on a rugged platform hastily put together using cafeteria tables, wearing a clown mask as someone with an identical mask stands near the platform, lovingly polishing a large machine gun while standing next to an intimidating black helicopter.

"Yes." Madam Britannica glares at the man and Atlantis catches sight of her fingers curling and uncurling into fists. "Now you can carry out your dastardly deed, you cretin."

"Ooh." The man waves a finger in Madam's face and chuckles. "Big words from an old lady aren't going to scare me or my buddy. Speaking of which...#2!" The other clown at the bottom of the platform looks up when the number is called. "Hand me my bullhorn." #2 nods and slings a black backpack off his back, zipping it open and handing a portable bullhorn to the first man. #1 flicks it on and brings it to the mouth of his mask. "Gooooood morning, Vietnam! How are you all on this lovely twilight? Good? Good. Now that pleasantries are out of the way, we can get down to business. My name is #1-" HA! "-And I am here to find the lost city of Atlantis." This results in murmuring and Atlantis calmly arches an eyebrow. If Atlantis ever existed, she's pretty sure this isn't the first place these weirdos should look. "Now, I've learned your little secret and I know you guys are a bunch of weird-as-heck personifications or some such crap. So just hand the Atlantis person over and no one gets hurt. But don't and...Well, let's just say I'm curious to find out what a good old-fashioned bullet will do to one of you freaks of nature. Atlantis!" He raises his voice and lets his eyes roam over the crowd. "If you're here, I recommend you come out quickly if you want to help me not put a bullet in somebody's brain." Atlantis takes a half step forward when Hungary tugs on her sleeve. Atlantis turns back to see Hungary minutely shake her head.

"Don't do it. It's not worth it."

"Don't be silly." She gently removes Hungary's hand and curls it closed. "You're my friend-as are a lot of people here. I can't take the risk that that maniac would put a bullet through one of my friends' brains. Don't worry, I'll be fine." Hungary just shakes her head and once again tries to stop Atlantis. "Don't stop me. I need to do this." Atlantis pulls away and walks to the platform. "Excuse me!" #1 glances down to see Atlantis smirking at him. "Humph, it seems you've finally gotten enough miniscule brain cells to find me. Well," she spreads her arms and winks, "here I am."

"Shut up, girl. If you're really Atlantis, you won't mind coming with me." He reaches down and grabs her wrist, forcefully dragging her to face him on top of the platform.

"It's not as if I have a choice." She retorts and wrenches her wrist away. "But, whatever. As long as no one here is injured, I will come peacefully."

"Why should I keep up that bargain?" #1 questions and Atlantis lets the smile drop off her face.

"Because you wouldn't like me when I'm angry. Now do we have a deal?" He sets his bullhorn on the ground next to his feet before raising one hand and stroking his chin thoughtfully.

"I guess...After all, you're offering yourself up to save your little buddies and I simply can't ignore such noble selflessness...It's decided!" He smacks a closed fist into his open palm before one of them shoots out and wraps around Atlantis' wrist again, tugging her closer. "But you have to behave like a good little doggie, okay?"

"...Woof." She sighs as he pulls her next to the helicopter and opens the door before turning back to their literal captive audience.

"Good news, ladies and gents! This selfless personification just sacrificed herself for you! Now, my boss won't kill her, but only as long as you don't come looking. Soooo, go back to sleep and forget she ever existed!" #1 turns and shoves Atlantis in before he clambers in along with #2, who heads to the pilot's seat and lifts them into the still-inky sky.

* * *

 **Finally, some actual plot! I was originally planning to introduce Germany and Italy, because they're awesome, but then I realized you guys probably get tired of reading filler stuff. So here's where I try to live up to my T rating, but you have to wait till next chapter to find out why! *Cue evil laughter.***

 **To Guest Awesome: Glad to see you kept my nickname! And thanks for the cool info. I almost got starry-eyed imagining Atlantis as this awesome empress who totally dominated! Plus I'm totally curious about your story because it sounds really good. If you have an account, please tell me the story name and I'll definitely check it out. Please don't be mad about the cliffhanger and review again!**

 **Anyways, please do the three R's: Read, review, repeat with next chapter. If you do, I will bring Atlantis into the author's notes to say hi herself!**

 **Signing off, as always,**

 **EOM**


	8. Chapter 8

**Thanks to lulupyne for the review that helped me start this chapter!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.**

Chapter 8:

Watching the ocean pass below seems to give Atlantis a strange sense of reverse deja-vu, though she doesn't bother to mention this to the two men who sit silently in the helicopter with her. #2, the one who did not do the speaking atop the table platform, flies the copter to destinations unknown. #1, who did the speaking, glares at something Atlantis thinks must be hiding in the ocean's watery depths. With the force of #1's glare, she can't say she blames whatever is hiding. Finally, she exhales shallowly through her nose and works up the courage to speak.

"Where are we going?"

"Home. Our old one and your new one." #1 turns away from the window to shoot her a quick sadistic glimmer of a smile before resuming his glaring.

"Yes, because that totally answers the question I just asked." She mutters rebelliously to herself, crossing her arms and slouching.

"Well, it's not like we're going to tell you just so you can start plotting an escape. Our boss is very interested in you, so we have to make sure to keep a tight grip on you."

"You know, if I didn't despise you with all my heart and soul, I'd make a joke about what you just said. But I do, so I won't." A bead of sweat rolls down the side of #1's face as he tries to process what she just said. When it finally gets through his thick skull, he growls and slaps her.

"Be careful what you say, girly. Boss said we couldn't break the goods. He never said anything about damaging them." He hisses, almost gleeful, and Atlantis swears she can hear the smirk in his words.

"I don't care." She retorts. "You've already made my life a nightmare just by sitting this close to me for so long." He cuffs her around the head again and she blinks away the starbursts in front of her eyes before spitting a glob of blood onto the helicopter floor.

"You'll polish this thing later, clean up every drop of blood of yours I 'accidentally' spill." #1 brings out a pocketknife and flicks it open before turning to her.

* * *

'Well, he wasn't wrong.' Atlantis tells herself later, wincing every time she moved her arms. 'You did have to polish the helicopter.'

'Did?' She mentally responds, imagining a second version of herself, uncut, unscathed, to have a full conversation with. 'I'm still polishing it right now!'

'I wonder what the boss-man looks like...' Unscathed (That's what Atlantis decides to call her mental double.) muses, but Atlantis notices how it's also a subtle subject change. 'Is it bad that I'm imagining Kingpin from that Daredevil show?'

'If we do meet the guy and he looks like that, he'll probably take it as a compliment that he looks like a crime lord from an alternate version of New York City.' Atlantis joins in the musing, taking a break from her dazed, repeated scrubbing of the same spot of helicopter floor over and over again.

"Girl!" Atlantis jumps at an outside intrusion into her mental conversation and Unscathed shimmers out of view. A woman marches over and stands before Atlantis, hands planted firmly on her narrow hips. Frankly, everything about the woman is narrow, from her hips to her waist to her nose and thin, compressed lips. "What are you doing out of your pod?"

"Pod, ma'am?" One of #1's lessons was learning respect. Unscathed appears and forms bunny ears over the woman's head, causing Atlantis to almost choke trying to suppress her giggling. Apparently, #1's lessons didn't affect Unscathed as much as they did Atlantis herself.

"You must be the new one if you don't know about pods. What happened to your arms?"

"#1 wanted to teach me respect, ma'am."

"So he sliced you with...A pocketknife?" Atlantis nods shallowly and the woman sighs. "Always knew he was an idiot. Boss is gonna flay him for laying a hand on you."

"He said you were allowed to, and I quote, 'damage the goods.'"

"Well, he lied. Get up. Let's get you to the infirmary. Then we can get you registered to a pod." She grips Atlantis by her elbow, and Atlantis works hard to hide her wince. "Geez, he really tore you up, huh? Well, let's go, kid. What's your name?"

"At-Lyra, ma'am." She stops herself from saying her nickname, almost feeling like she's tearing off her right arm in doing so. She could hardly believe that one little word would be the foundation for her self-identity.

"You can call yourself Atlantis, honey. Who knows, you might even be the real thing."

* * *

After a trip to the infirmary, where a buff male nurse complained about how he didn't get paid enough, the lady leads Atlantis to a room labeled the Pod Room. Walking in, there aren't any actual pods. Instead, there are rows and rows of rooms, tiny enough to have a bed that folds into a wall and a latrine. Even though there are dozens of cells, Atlantis estimates about a quarter of them to have any actual residents. The lady notices Atlantis glancing around and sighs.

"Yeah, we've lost a couple of the girls to experiments. It sucks, but such is science. Just be thankful the new ones don't get experimented on until later." Suddenly the two arrive at a simple wooden desk. A teenage girl sits behind it, chewing bubblegum and reading a magazine. "New one for first available pod."

"You're in luck." The girl puts her magazine down and peers over the desk at Atlantis. "One of the nice ones just opened up."

"That means there's a pillow. Girls usually get special treats for surviving the more advanced tests." The lady takes a key from the receptionist and leads Atlantis to a pod where the bed is pulled out and has a pillow resting on it. Atlantis goes inside before the lady seals the door and looks at a clipboard hanging next to it. "Sorry, sweetheart. Looks like they start testing on you tomorrow. You're not as lucky as we first thought."

* * *

 **Dun dun dunnnn! I've already started planning a sequel for this story, but I don't know if I'll post it. I have to get through this one first.**

 **Please do the three R's: Read, Review, and Repeat with the next chapter!**

 **Signing off, as always,**

 **EOM**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey, guys! Here be dragons! Whoops, I mean Chapter 9! Haha, dragons, what dragons...?**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia...Yet.**

Chapter 9:

Time passes slowly when you can't see the sky. For Atlantis, it seems an eternity has inched by since the lady who led her to her cell told her that she was going to be tested on almost immediately. But she isn't foolish and realizes only eight hours have passed, most of which she spent sleeping.

She isn't sleeping anymore, instead sitting on her bed with her knees pulled tight to her chest and slowly rocking back and forth.

"You alive in there?" A rap on the glass startles Atlantis and she almost falls off the bed, instead getting to her feet and facing the door and the lady standing outside it. "My name is Dr. Lucius and I'm here to take you to get tested." Dr. Lucius pulls down the clipboard that hangs on the wall next to the door of Atlantis' cell and peruses it slowly, humming to herself when she sees something of interest. "It looks like we've got you down for taking the Water Test today first. Funny, that one has our highest mortality rate. I don't know why the higher-ups insist on wasting my test subjects like this. But oh well!" She hangs the clipboard up and opens Atlantis' door with a cheery grin. "Let's get you ready...In the name of science!"

* * *

 _Meanwhile, in a World Meeting..._

A room usually filled with yelling and laughing and various conversations going on at once, a somber quiet permeates the very walls of the meeting room.

"How did they get past security? I thought every country offered up the best of what they had?!" America, now an adult, lifts his head from its resting spot on the wooden table.

"We did, you bloody idiot." England's tone lacks its usual anger towards his former colony, instead sipping on a cup of tea that he silently wishes was something a little stronger. "I can't tell you for sure how they got through, but what matters now is they did, and they have Atlantis."

"Yes, but who is this 'they'? To fight our enemies, we must first know who we are fighting." Japan sits next to Germany and China, polishing his katana in an effort to clear his mind.

"I...Might have an idea." No one is expecting Canada to raise his hand, nor to get to his feet and walk up to the podium. "Y'see, my country's had a couple run-ins with these guys and we managed to get at least a little information." He pulls a flash drive out of his coat pocket and inserts it into a nearby computer, pulling up a PowerPoint. "They call themselves the 'Atlantis League', a group dedicated to finding the personification of Atlantis herself and using her knowledge of lost technology to take over the world, installing her as their puppet empress once that goal has been achieved."

"For only maybe having an idea, it sure panned out, little brother!" America grins, seeing a faint glimmer of hope, and throws an arm around Canada's shoulder once he returns to his seat. Germany clears his throat and gets to his feet.

"Now our only issue is figuring out where this group is located." America chuckles awkwardly and rubs the back of his head.

"Oh...Right..."

* * *

 _Back to our irregularly scheduled testing..._

Atlantis was taken to a room to be outfitted in a simple black one-piece bathing suit before being lead to another room where she is now waiting. This room is mostly taken up by a giant water tank with a sealable lid and no space to breathe. Not uncomfortable with her own mortality, she only wishes to hurry things along and get this over with. The wounds on her arm are beginning to itch in either nervousness or irritation. Frankly, she feels like it could be a mixture of the two.

Dr. Lucius (And Atlantis can't help but wonder if her last name is a reference to Lucifer, the devil.) walks in, closely attended by two meek-looking assistants carrying arms filled with various folders and papers.

"Are you ready to begin?" She asks Atlantis, not waiting for an answer, instead wagging a hand towards the tank absentmindedly. "Be a dear and get in of your own accord, will you? I'd hate to have to ruin my new manicure by forcing you in." For one second, Atlantis is tempted to fight as the faces of her friends flash through her mind, but she heaves a sigh and begins walking toward the tank, knowing, to put it in the words of a popular pop culture reference, that resistance is futile. Atlantis climbs into the tank, which is about seven feet deep, and floats down until her feet rest solidly on the bottom pane of glass. Over her head, the two meek-looking assistants have latched the lid on tight and let their eyes linger on hers before glancing away guiltily. "Can you hear me in there?" Dr. Lucius' voice reverberates strangely through the water but it is still understandable. Atlantis gives a slow nod, head moving fluidly through the water, and she sees Dr. Lucius' blurry grin. "Good, you're not screaming like some of our other subjects. Now then..." Dr. Lucius proceeds to prattle on about something that Atlantis honestly does not care about at all, so Atlantis turns her focus on the funny burning feeling in her lungs.

'It's called oxygen deprivation, sweetheart.' Unscathed appears, standing in the water as though she's on dry land. 'If we were anyone else, we'd probably be choking on this water now. As it is, we're just the tiniest bit screwed to all oblivion.' Atlantis almost opens her mouth to answer when she remembers she's underwater and shoots Unscathed a questioning look. 'You can communicate with me by using your mind. Just think a thought and I'll hear it. We are one and the same, after all.'

'How is the oxygen deprivation not affecting us yet?'

'It's a mental thing.' Unscathed raises a fist and lightly raps it against her temple. 'I'm staving it off because I need to show you something when you pass out. I just wanted to warn you ahead of time.' She grins and begins to fade out of sight even as Atlantis' vision grows increasingly black. 'Good night, sweetheart.'

* * *

 **Cliffhanger, how I love you! *Commence evil giggling as I twirl in my spinny chair.* Anyway, just the usual comment and respond to review, no big deal!**

 **For Unscathed being such a minor character, I'll admit I've gotten just the teeniest bit attached. So she'll probably stick around for one more chapter before fading into the mist.**

 **To lulupyne: Ah, you're just trying to make me blush! I'm glad you're excited for the sequel! (Even though I haven't planned it out at all...) Thanks for your kind words!**

 **And remember, my minions, do the three R's: Read, Review, and Repeat with the next chapter!**

 **Signing off, as always,**

 **EOM**


	10. Chapter 10

***Staggers in, straight off of Survivor* Ha ha ha, I'm alive! *Glances at computer and remembers her obligation to the fandom* Oh...**

Chapter 10:

Atlantis opens her eyes to pure white and a faint buzzing in her ears. She slowly blinks to focus her eyes, but the pure white doesn't change. Atlantis sits up and grips her head, looking around at the white light that emanates from everywhere and nowhere all at once.

"Where...Am I?"

A figure appears out of the brightness and Atlantis squints, though it really doesn't help. Finally, the figure gets close enough that Atlantis can see it clearly. It's Unscathed, but she's now dressed in a flowing blue silk dress and her hair is pulled up into an elegant bun.

"Welcome back to the land of the living." Unscathed sweeps her arms out, dress billowing momentarily in a non-existent breeze.

"I thought we drowned?" Atlantis retorts, her eyes narrowed in a mixture of confusion and suspicion.

"Emphasis on 'thought'." Unscathed giggles. "I brought you here for a reason."

"To save my fragile psyche from being damaged?"

"Kind of the opposite. I wish to restore our memories, after having been locked away for so long."

"How is that possible?"

"Anything is possible with determination." She giggles to herself as if she just made a hilarious joke instead of a vaguely motivational statement. Then she turns and begins walking back into the whiteness. Just as she's about to vanish from view, Unscathed pauses and turns back to Atlantis. "Are you coming?" Atlantis nods and leaps to her feet, following the other woman.

* * *

After about five minutes of walking, Unscathed turns suddenly, halting in Atlantis' path.

"Are you not tired of appearing as a teenager?" Atlantis frowns, confused.

"I cannot control my own appearance." Unscathed sighs and her shoulders slump.

"Why did I lock our memories away...? Yes, you can."

"How?"

"Concentrate, dear." Atlantis does so, imagining herself older. As she does, a funny tingling sensation spreads across her entire body and she tries to not laugh from how it tickles. When she opens her eyes, Unscathed looks different. Where before her curly golden hair fell to her shoulders, it now hangs in dainty ringlets down her back. She's grown a little taller, to a height of 5'10". Her chest is a decent size, and it won't grab any unwanted attention without the proper flaunting. The dress she wore has also grown, hanging to her calves and complimenting the pair of white, almost Greek-looking, sandals on her feet. But the sleeves reveal something: The sleeves are almost non-existent, making the burn marks running up and down Unscathed's crossed arms extremely noticeable on her tanned skin.

"What..." Atlantis glances at her own arms to see identical scars. "What happened?" Unscathed turns away from her and towards a wooden door that has appeared suddenly from seemingly nowhere.

"Go through here. I will show you who we were and are." She whirls back with fire burning in her aquamarine eyes. "But be prepared. I have tried to safeguard you, and reveal the truth to you now out of necessity. Let your tears fall freely, for I do not recall if we ever properly mourned what we have lost." Wind gusts across the whiteness, cold and cutting, and Unscathed dissolves into it like so many leaves in the wind. Atlantis turns away from where the other her stood a moment ago and faces the wooden door. Sighing and scrubbing a palm down her face, she grips the handle and slowly turns it.

"If I'm dead, then this is probably the door to hell."

* * *

As soon as she opens the door, Atlantis is buffeted by another breeze, but it feels warm and bears the scent of clover. She glances around and realizes the cause of the scent: She is standing in a giant field of the plant. In three directions, there's nothing but gently rolling hills. In the fourth direction, however, she sees what looks like a building. She rolls her eyes and hitches up her skirt. She was never a huge fan of walking long distances when she didn't want to.

Luckily, it isn't s far away as it appears. She manages to reach it after only about ten minutes of walking. It's a castle with a flag she's never seen before in her life hanging from the turrets: A blue wave symbol on top of a silver atom symbol on a field of green. People in light, loose-fitting clothes flood into the castle entrance, children running around their parents' legs. One of these children bump into her and Atlantis startles, almost knocking over the poor boy. She quickly rights him and he smiles up at her.

"Greetings, big sister. Have you come to view the dancers as well?"

"What dancers?" The boy reaches up and takes her hand.

"A troop of dancers are performing for the king and have invited the entire kingdom to see their show. They're preparing to perform as we speak. Shall I accompany you?" She nods and he squeezes her hand he's holding with a smile. "Excellent! Let us go!" They quickly join the throng and Atlantis bows so the little boy can hear her better over the roar of the crowd.

"My name's At-Lyra. What is yours?"

"My name is Jonathan."

"You have a very precise way of speaking for such a young boy, Jonathan." Jonathan giggles and Atlantis feels confused. He sees she isn't joking and pauses.

"Oh, you must be a foreigner. Yes, but all Atlanteans are like that."

"I thought Atlantis didn't exist." Jonathan frowns at this.

"Then where are we right now? Come, the show is about to start." She is led inside, where a large room is set up like a circus with a large area in the shape of a circle closed off by a wooden fence encircling it. Inside the circle stand four people: Two girls, an adult man, and a young boy with an instrument that looks like a harp. Outside the circle's ring sit two low couches which serve as thrones for two people: A man wearing a blue cloth wrapped around his waist and hanging down to his ankles and a golden staff gripped in one hand. On the other, a woman, in a blue dress, reclined on her couch instead of leaning forwards while sitting up, like the man.

"Are we to wait for your frolicking about forever, Stefan?!" The man on the couch, obviously a king, shouted down to the man in the ring. "Since this is all you are good for ever since I became king." And not a very good one, Atlantis tells herself while curling her hands into fists.

Stefan glances up and rolls his eyes.

"My apologies, brother." He steps into the center of the ring as the boy with the harp and the younger of the two girls hurry over to the side while the older girl heads to the center of the circle next to Stefan. "Ladies and gentlemen, for your pleasure, we present both a show and a message. But first, the show!" He bows low to the cheers of the crowds and joins the other two on the edge of the circle. Atlantis finally turns her attention on the final person in the ring and feels her heart skip a beat. It's her, but younger and dressed in green robes that reveal her stomach and scar-less arms.

"Are we ready?!" She yells and the crowd goes wild, almost as wild as the grin on the girl's face as she nods to the boy with the harp. He nods in response and begins strumming a quick tune as Stefan pulls out a metal can and bangs on its lid rhythmically. "Then let's begin!" And she starts to dance.

Looking back on it, Atlantis realizes that isn't really the correct term. It's more like she came alive and everyone else faded into gray.

With a leap into the air, the girl lands on the point of one foot and her next moves are so convoluted and energetic Atlantis realizes she basically just spun around the circle, doing other moves in the pauses between spins until the music stops. She freezes, chest heaving as she sucks in deep breaths of air.

"And now, my liege," she bows low as the king and queen applaud politely, "the message. The people in this ring with me are not my family, though I have adopted them as such. They are, however, your family, and you have rejected them for the crown you wear upon your weak-minded brow. I have roamed this land for longer than I can remember and I have seen firsthand the suffering you have brought to your subjects. Well I say enough!" Stefan tosses a metal pole to the girl suddenly and she grabs it and slams it into the ground with a resonating boom. "we have lived under your tyranny for too long! Let the crown go to someone who is worthy enough to be king! Let the throne go to your brother!" She slams the pole again and the crowd roars with approval. The king gets to his feet and glares at Old Atlantis.

"What right have you to say these things to me?" He bellows and she smirks.

"We have all heard the tales of Germania, Holy Rome, and Britannica. We have heard how gods have come down to represent each country! I am the god of Atlantis!" The crowd does not roar this time, but murmurs among itself confusedly. Old Atlantis certainly appears godlike enough, cheeks flushed from exertion and green robes shimmering in the morning sun, doing what any self-respecting heroine in folklore would do: Protecting her people from the classic villain. "Test me if you will, but you will know that my words shall prove true! Now, step down! So says Atlantis!" She throws the metal pole into the dirt before her and taking a threatening step towards the king and queen. The woman gets to her feet and hastily flees from the room. The king glares at her before slowly reaching up to his brow, grabbing his crown and throwing it into the dust at her feet before following his queen in retreat. Old Atlantis bends down and picks the crown up with a sigh. "It's never fun to defeat a coward." She turns to the crowd and lifts the crown above her head. "With the authority of the holy creator and my power as the people's homeland, I now crown your new king!" She walks over to Stefan, who kneels on one knee when she places the crown on his head and a hand upon his shoulder. "I give you the blessing of Atlantis to rule my people. Shall anyone contest my ruling, claim my protection and I shall fight to protect you and your descendants." He lowers his head and Old Atlantis grins as white fog creeps in and Atlantis finds herself back in the whiteness she first woke up in, with a splitting headache.

"Is that it?" She questions aloud. "Are those the only memories I am to receive?" The fog recedes once again as if answering her question.

* * *

 **To be continued! I haven't gotten any reviews on the last few chapters, so I haven't been as motivated to work on the stories I have on here. Thank goodness for a small modicum of free time!**

 **As always, please do the three R's: Read my new chapter, Review, and Repeat with the next chapter!**

 **Signing off, as always,**

 **EOM**


	11. Chapter 11

**More story! I sense the end approaching, but I'm trying to get this story over ten thousand words, so it'll be a little longer yet!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, only Atlantis.**

Chapter 11:

Old Atlantis is the first thing Atlantis sees.

'This is confusing.' Atlantis sighs to herself, placing a hand on her forehead. 'I'll call her Lyra.' Atlantis smiles at her solution and turns her attention back to Lyra.

Lyra sits on a bench in front of an open air window in what looks like a palace hallway, with a baby girl sitting on her lap and cooing happily as Lyra weaves a crown of clover. Finished, she plops the crown on the baby's head.

"There you are, Marie!" Lyra declares joyfully, holding the baby before her and tapping her nose. "The spitting image of your mother, God rest her soul. You are the fifth generation since I crowned Stefan, did you know that? That makes Stefan your great-great-great-grandfather." Lyra replaces the baby in her lap and points to a portrait across the hall that Atlantis just noticed. "There he is, such a good man. But he was also great in his role as king. And so was his daughter, her son, his daughter, and now your father!" Marie claps her hands though she understands nothing the empire tells her. "Yes, I approved the crowning of-" Lyra cuts off and turns pale, clutching her stomach and leaning forwards to rest her face in the girl's blonde hair. Atlantis can't help but worry for the younger version of herself, but she's distracted when the ground rumbles beneath her feet and the palace quakes in its foundation. Lyra, still pale, manages to get to her feet and look around worriedly. "Those scientists were right. It's happening." She looks out the window and Atlantis joins her. In the distance, what looks like a mountain quivers and belches smoke. Lyra glances at the child in her arms and brings her to her chest. "I can't stop it, Marie. But let's go find your father. Maybe he listened to the scientists and prepared the boats." She dashes down the hall and Atlantis follows.

* * *

The door Lyra is heading for opens suddenly and she screeches to a halt, handing the baby over to the man with a thick black beard and golden circlet that stands before her, hissing as Marie's tiny hands rub against her reddening arms.

"What is going on, Atlantis?" The man asks and Lyra shakes her head.

"I am sorry, Majesty. It's happening." She holds her arms forward and Atlantis sees bright red patches of singing skin in the same places her scars are now. "Please tell me you prepared at least a few boats." The king nods distractedly, looking out another window to see red lava beginning to leak from the top of the volcano.

"Not enough, but there is another country we can sail to. The other empires haven't discovered it yet, but the natives there are very in tune with nature and their goddess will help us. There is enough room for you." Lyra shakes her head.

"I will stay with the commoners who are condemned to death. This is my home, though it will be going to the bottom of the watery depths. Please do not forget me." The king pulls her to him and hugs her, as if he was her father.

"We will tell our children of you." Lyra nods with tears in her eyes and takes one of Marie's tiny hands in hers.

"I will not see you again, dear heart. But your descendants and the country you leave for both have my blessing upon your brow." She kisses Marie, who starts to sniffle, having a tiny understanding that she will never see her care-taker again. The king runs down the hall and Lyra stares through the window at the lava running ever closer to the people's homes before she too heads for the streets to stay among her people.

* * *

"Why do you forsake us, Atlantis?!" Citizens yell at her and Lyra shakes her head.

"This is not my doing!" She yells and a little boy tugs on Lyra's robes.

"What is happening, big sister?" Lyra's eyes soften and she picks the boy up, though Atlantis knows her arms burn as if they are on fire.

"You are going to a very special place, little brother. But I cannot follow. I must stay here and keep an eye on your homes."

"Does that make you sad, big sister?" The boy asks and places a gentle hand on Lyra's face, which is turning red too, as if she has a bad sunburn.

"Unbearably. But the best people do not show their pain."

"But my mother taught me it is okay to cry. Do you need my permission to cry, if only to make you feel better?" Lyra hesitates before nodding and the boy kisses her cheek. "You can cry." Tears run openly down Lyra's face and she screams in agony and terrible sadness at the sky, hugging the tiny boy to her chest and getting to her knees in the middle of the street, people trying to run from their imminent deaths streaming around her. Atlantis feels crippling pain as the lava finally reaches Lyra. The boy has already died of overheating and Lyra seems to glare at the sky one last time before the whiteness returns and Atlantis finds herself on her knees back in the whiteness, tears involuntarily leaking from her eyes as she remembers everything.

"Now do you remember?" Atlantis doesn't have the will to turn her head to face Unscathed, who stands just behind her. "The country they went to was America, by the way. Native America called them the first official pilgrims. Which technically makes them his first citizens."

"Why did that happen? Why did so many have to die?" Atlantis sobs and Unscathed places a hand on her shoulder.

"Because it was their time. And we cannot wrestle with death. We must move on." The white slowly becomes black as Unscathed's next words echo in her head. "And you must wake up."

* * *

"Wake up! Wake up!" Atlantis opens her eyes slowly to see a stern-looking man with piercing blue eyes and slicked-back blond hair shaking her. She sits up and shakes her head slowly before looking around. The tank she was placed in looks like it exploded. Glass shards are everywhere and the bodies of several scientists lie around in various places. "Good, you're awake. We're looking for a young girl. Can you help us find her, ma'am? She goes by Lyra or the nickname Atlantis."

"That accent..." Atlantis focuses on him and he blinks in shock. "German, right? I remember Germania was a pain to negotiate with. But he could hold his own in a drinking contest. His boyfriend could kick his butt, though. Help me up, young man." He does so, though they both appear the same age. His eyes seem drawn to the burn marks on her arms and she scoffs before snapping her fingers in front of his nose. "I'm Atlantis. Now let's get me some real clothes so I can break down crying properly." Though she appears stoic, the man sees tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. She rubs them away and he turns away to lead her out of the building as she tries not to cry in front of this man.

"My name is Germany." He says hesitantly and keeps his eyes forward. "It's okay to cry, if you think you need my permission." Atlantis laughs as she lets the tears fall more freely.

"Thank you, Germany. You seem like a good man."

"Let's get you some real clothes, ma'am." She nods, though he doesn't see it, and they step into the sunlight together.

* * *

 **Whew, I finished! Okay, so I looked and I was already over ten thousand words! Wowee! Anyway, so that means the next chapter will probably be the last...In this story! I'm definitely going to make a sequel! You can count on it!**

 **To lulupyne: Thanks for the review! It was very nice and made me smile. You certainly reviewed quickly, which was definitely a factor in me finishing this chapter so soon.**

 **As always, don't forget the three R's. But you've been reading so long, I'm sure I don't have to tell you.**

 **Signing off, as always,**

 **EOM**


	12. Chapter 12

**Last chapter! Wow, it feels like the end of an era...Which means it's time for another era to begin! So let's get this show on the road!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

Chapter 12:

 _On the way to the World Meeting..._

"Ah, don't worry, baby brother!" America grins and pokes Canada in the side in a vain attempt to get him to cheer up a little. "I'm sure we'll find her soon. Don't forget, Germany took some of his dudes to look at that creepy facility you tipped us off about. So if they do find her, then you can claim credit."

"America, stop." Canada protests quietly. "Aren't you worried for her too? Who knows what's happened while she's been gone?"

"Of course I'm worried." America frowns at his brother. "But since you're so close with her, I bet you could probably tell me what she'd say if she was here right now, can't you?" Canada frowns, but nods.

"'What are you worrying for? I swear, you're going to give yourself a heart attack, immortal country or no.'" Canada scrunches his nose, altering his vocal pitch so it sounds more like Atlantis'. "How'd I do, Al?"

"Pretty close." America grins. "But still, you know her better than I do, so I don't really have a right to tell you to not worry."

"No, but you're right as well." Canada sighs and looks out the window of the plane they're flying in to Italy's capital. "I just have to keep my hopes up."

* * *

 _Meanwhile in Italy..._

It's late at night in Rome, but Italy can't sleep. He even tried eating pasta and it didn't work, so he knows it's serious! Italy wanders the streets before stopping next to a spot that overlooks a river. He enjoys how pretty the night is when he hears someone else coming. He turns to greet the person and sees that it's a woman who looks about his age with long, curly, blonde hair and scars racing up and down her arms. She doesn't seem to see Italy as she walks to another place overlooking the river and leans on an old fence.

"Buona notte, bella!" Italy walks over to the woman, who glances up sharply when he speaks, before her features soften and she smiles. "It's a beautiful night, no?"

"Indeed, my friend." The woman has an accent Italy has never heard before, almost as if she's singing one of brother France's love ballads, but the words are in Spanish, which makes it even prettier. "But young men like you should not be out so late. You must have plenty of rest to be handsome for the ladies, who surely flock to you." Italy thinks about this before nodding once.

"Yes, I suppose that's true...But then you'd be all alone, which would be awfully rude of me!" He holds out his hand, which the woman shakes. "My name is Feliciano. Are you new to Italy?"

"Yes, but it does not feel like it. Your home country reminds me of one that I visited ever so long ago..." She gazes wistfully over the water before turning back to him. "My name is Lyra. I am in town for a very important meeting, or so a friend has told me. To be honest, I'm just using it to get better acquainted with the world in general."

"That's awfully smart! I have a meeting too, so I have to go now! Bye-bye!" He waves and begins walking away, turning back to see Lyra still gazing at the water.

* * *

 _Back to Atlantis' POV_

The next morning, Germany drops Atlantis off at a big building and leads her into a room with a large round tale, telling her to wait there. She looks around before finding a chair in a far corner of the room where nobody will see her, and gets comfy. The scars itch again today, so she puts some of the cortisone lotion Germany got at her request on them.

People begin to file in. Some Atlantis knows, like Germany, Canada, and America, and some she doesn't. She's even surprised to see Feliciano talking to Germany with a sunny grin. The people talk among themselves, no one noticing her in the chair in the corner. Finally, Germany stands and heads to the front before stopping in front of a podium.

"As you all know," he begins, waiting for the room to quiet, "A team of my citizens launched an attack on a warehouse that Canada tipped us off that may contain the personification of the Empire of Atlantis. We breached the building and discovered cells containing dozens of young girls, all of whom were not in the best of condition. I apprehended the man in charge and asked him if those were all of the girls, but he didn't seem to comprehend what I was asking. He just kept crying and saying he had found the 'true one' and that we 'couldn't take her, not when he was so close.' A soldier brought us a doctor, who seemed more lucid then the man and informed us they'd captured, in her words, 'a specimen capable of modifying her age and appearance.' I demanded to see the specimen and she led me to a back room where there was a giant tank of water. In the water floated a young woman who appeared to be about mid twenties, with long, curly blonde hair and burn scars on her arms. She was unconscious but able to breathe in the water. I demanded the lid be removed and the girl brought out of the water, but the doctor told us they'd tried to do it earlier and something terrible had happened: The girl was screaming and crying, but only when they pulled her out of the water. They learned it was because her scars were overheating, giving her a fever of one hundred and five and putting her in an immense amount of pain. We permitted them to keep her in the water as long as she was immediately removed as soon as the fever broke. The doctor woman was kept at the facility, along with a few assistants, while the rest of the group was transported to a prison. The woman's fever broke a few hours later and we pulled her out of the water, but the doctor went insane. She managed to get ahold of one of the guard's guns and shot her two assistants before attempting to shoot my group. She was killed in self-defense just as the woman from the tank regained consciousness. This woman...Was Atlantis, and she had her memories once again. If she is willing, we can have her come in now. I will send a man to fetch her." Atlantis laughs gently and gets to her feet.

"Thank you for the speech, Germany, but the 'sending a man to fetch me' bit was a little dramatic, don't you think?" She knows she feels dramatic, with her sleeveless, toga dress showing off her scars and trailing behind her as she walks up to the podium. He steps down so that she may stand at the podium, which she does, smiling at him. "After all, I used to be able to beat your vati into the ground!" He pales at that and walks back to his seat. She turns to face the nations. "Alright, let's get some things straight! One: I'm still the same person some of you already know, I've just got some new scars and more memories. Two: This world's kind of gone down the drain, and I can't stand that what with how much work I put into keeping you guys' parents from killing each other, which means that three: I'm sticking around with you guys to maybe smack some sense into you now and then like my good friend Hungary! Questions?" A hand raises in the back and she points at it. "My other buddy Canada!"

"Where are the scars from?" She doesn't say anything but distantly feels her smile grow cold.

"Some things are better left unspoken, Matthew, so I'll trust you to never ask that again. I'm here now and that's all that matters." Without another word, she steps down from the podium and walks out the door, pausing to wave at her friends.

'Yeah,' Unscathed whispers from some dark corner of her mind, 'We're finally home, huh?'

* * *

 **Dramatic ending is dramatic and rushed but this is the first time I'm doing a series so I'm not very good at ending an entire story.**

 **Time to answer reviews!**

 **lulupyne: You're too nice, I swear! Your reviews just make me smile and feel warm and fuzzy. This chapter was for you, so I hope you liked how dramatic it was!**

 **Uno: I see from the black name that you are a guest reviewer, so thank you for reviewing. Your name is officially Numero Uno, seeing as I like to give my guest reviewers nicknames. I don't know what you mean by spirits, so I'm assuming you're talking about the personifications. And they're not evil! Well...most of them aren't. But even if they were, they're still awesome!**

 **As always, do the three R's! But there's something different with this one: Read this chapter, review, and Repeat with the first chapter of my new story titled The Watery Depths, coming soon!**

 **It's almost like I'm saying goodbye...**

 **Signing off, as always,**

 **EOM**


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